


Paint you plum

by gachigallae



Category: ASTRO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, and side myungjin, art major eunwoo, frat boy bin, implied socky, inspired by a thing on Tumblr, maybe side socky i'll figure it out later, warning a very cheesy typical story woop
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-02-27 15:35:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13251252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gachigallae/pseuds/gachigallae
Summary: Dongmin is an Art major whose mind day by day gets exponentially more and more occupied by an unlikely flower he found.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hia~  
> I know I disappeared from the face of the earth along with BOH but life happened and I lost inspiration for the series. In search for it, I decided to write something else which just happened to be this. I have almost all of it written down so any longer updates are most likely due to exams.  
> Either way, I really hope you enjoy this expensive cheese of a story and thank you for reading! If you have any comments or suggestions, please let me know~

Dongmin struggled to gather his belongings from behind the counter of ‘Bean’s’ - the coffee shop he worked in. There was no doubt in his mind that he heard the sound of some of his pencils dropping and rolling away into the nowhere that was the area under the counter. Nothing his minimum barista wage couldn’t manage to repurchase in the arts and crafts store on campus. No lost chalk was more important than the Realism Art Theory lecture he was about to be late to.

University was a rather peculiar thing to Lee Dongmin. The idea of no one caring about your attendance clearing the road ahead for those slacking was interesting because Dongmin wasn’t all that. He was a sponge, ready to absorb knowledge. For what reason, one, including Lee Dongmin himself, could only guess - maybe because his sense of duty pushed him, maybe because he was a complete lawfully good man or maybe because sense of duty was something his parents raised him by. Either way, the track of perfect attendance was continued in university, the young man sitting in every auditorium he could and his pencil sliding on the pages of his sketch book, pages threateningly full with every seminar that passed.

The huge black case in his hand filled with all sorts of papers slowed him down more than he would have liked. Raven hair tucked under the dirt-brown cap he wore to work, Dongmin rushed into the main building of the Arts faculty trying his best not to smack someone a with his case along the way. Just when he thought he succeeded, though, he ran into a boy exiting the auditorium Dongmin was rushing to. The sharp edge of his case sunk right into the man’s thigh. A sharp intake of breath followed as the boy jumped back, hissing at the unexpected contact.

“Oh! I’m sorry,” Dongmin blurted out, head already too low in a bow to glance at whoever he assaulted with his protected artwork. He looked up when he was met with a sweet voice in return, honey-like and warm, dismissing Dongmin of his wrongdoing.

Despite the boy wearing dark clothing, black sweats and hoodie covering him up, he seemed like a magnet. Like the type of man to draw people in without even knowing it with the subtitle pull on the corners of his lips and the glint in his eyes that couldn’t be missed even if he tried to hide slight swell of them behind thick rimmed glasses that were also black. Tousled hair covered by a cap much like Dongmin’s, yet, black, he was decked in a dull shade but he shone a vivid colour. He looked like a flower, Dongmin mused inside the auditorium, unable to focus on the lecture anymore. No matter how much darkness was around, the boy he passed with peaces of disturbance outshined it all.

It took him a few prolonged moments to snap back out of it and get back to his abandoned notes only to see an outline of some flowers in his notebook. Dongmin didn’t even realize that his hand was taking careful strokes as he his mind was going through cluttered memories of just minutes before. Laughing at his own antics, he quickly moved the eraser around the page and the faint outline was gone, replaced by neat writing.

One and a half hour of his element later, Dongmin hid his messy, unstyled hair behind his café cap again while shuffling trough campus, his case tightly in his hand. The size of the thing would most likely make one think that Dongmin was an architecture student. It was surely what his parents thought, as he told them he wanted to peruse something closer to art, something that he could express himself in without much words. Doodling was always an outlet in high school, when art classes were abandoned on his father’s accord. Moreover, the compliments he got as people viewed whatever he drew sparked a flame in him and the adult Dongmin rebelled. For the first time of his life he said no to his father when the only art in the elder’s mind was architecture. The heaviness of their fight did cause Dongmin to take an architecture minor, as broad as his shoulders, they were unable to carry the wrath of his father for the rest of his life.

Dorm life was eventful, to say the very least. Not frat house eventful, but eventful enough to have witnessed mattresses flying out the window and people coming in and out to stranger’s rooms as they pleased. Dongmin’s roommate wasn’t too bothered about that but agreed to change the lock with their own money either way.

The latter was endorsed in a recital of what slightly reminded Dongmin of the original (English!) version of 'Hamlet'. One hand held the book open while Myungjun was conducting an invisible orchestra with the other one, swinging his body around the small room in an exaggerated manner. He was a few years older literature major, very particular and striking. A man with an bright smile and laugh and, admittedly, one of very few friends Dongmin had.

“What are you doing?” Dongmin questioned, looking the young man over carefully while dropping his case full of papers on his well-made bed. He was given a look by his roommate, as the latter finished a line before dropping the book on the table

“You messed up my flow! What did this old man do to deserve this?” pinching the bridge of his nose and looking like a Greek sculpture in the glow of the cheap dorm room lamp, Myunjun took a pregnant pause before losing his smirk. A look of determination replaced the sparkle. “Remember Mister Sunshine?”

Oh, did Dongmin remember the guy Myungjun had professed his undying love to as soon as he saw him smiling as they brushed shoulders in campus. He was almost sure the elder kept a log of all the times he had encountered the young, sandy blonde-haired man with an admittedly infectious smile – Myungjun didn’t necessarily hide it either, as Dongmin had witnessed him in his bed, scribbling away in a notebook with ‘oooh’ and ‘wows’ as he described in detail the way the blonde’s smile shone that day.

“I’m confessing.”

“You’re what?”

Myugjun let out a frustrated sigh before nervously fluffing his hair – no usual exaggeration or actoresque behavior. Just his roommate standing in the pure form of equal amounts of desperate and scared for his life. “I’m confessing. I can’t take it any more, Min. I think I’ll die sad and lonely if I don’t.”

“Myungjun, you don’t even know his name,” the cap Dongmin wore gripped tightly between two fingers, the student took it off and tossed it on their shared work desk. The room was tiny for two people. Chosing two beds instead of bunks had them sharing a lot of commodities in the room, forgetting personal space and boundaries. Naturally, Myungjun quickly became Dongmin’s best friend.

“Park Jinwoo.”

“What??”

For a moment the smile that pulled on Myungjun’s lips reminded Dongmin of a serial killer. Out of all the things Dongmin knew Myungjun was, he would have never taken him for a stalker. “Did you hire a private investigator or something?” frowning, Dongmin squeezed past Myungjun to his bed, putting the case away and taking place on the bed, long limbs relaxed on the mattress but eyes careful and stuck on his roommate.

“Sort of..”

“M-hyung!! That s-“

“Nonono,” quickly fanning his hands in an attempt to shut Dongmin up, the orange haired guy sat down on his own bed, lawyer tone activated. “It’s not private investigating per se. I didn’t pay anyone. Remember that guy we saw him with in ‘Bean’s’?? Short, silvery hair. Sort of looks like a penguin?”

“I’m pretty sure he was taller than yo-“

“ _NOT THE POINT_. Listen, the most amazing thing happened.” His mannerism had Myungjun bouncing on the mattress of his bed back and forth. “Seriously, you won’t believe it. Remember the open door day, when that noodle boy Sanha got lost in the dorms and you welcomed him in to our room for some cookies because you said he resembled a tiny baby pigeon and-“

“Please get to the point.” Rolling his eyes, Dongmin recalled the young boy vividly as if he had seen him yesterday. He was tall, lanky and blonde, hair much like cotton candy and seemed to be meticulously curled to impress. Dongmin quickly learned that Sanha was born with cuteness, protective feelings for the boy growing strong.

“I saw The Silver Fox on the noodle’s Instagram. A small world, Dongmin!” laughing happily, the high-pitched sound hit the walls playfully and took it’s time to dissolve into nothing. “Do you know what this means, Min?”

“Detective MJ?”

Sapping his fingers a few times, Myungjun nodded vigorously before pointing his index finger and waggling it around towards Dongmin. “That’s right. Detective MJ put his cap on and started going trough The Silver Fox’s Instagram. I didn’t find that many pictures of him with his friend, but I did find his following list. And guess who I found on his following list?”

“Mister Sunshine?”

Myungjum smiled happily, clapping his hands and bouncing up and down a few times on his bed. “Exactly. So I followed him. And guess what? He followed me back. He knows me.”

“Or he saw the same University name and just automatically followed back. He is a frat boy, I’m sure that s exciting to him.”

When Dongmin sat up and looked directly at his friend, the other was already swinging the same book he was reciting from just moments ago the younger’s way.  Ducking didn’t help Dongmin avoid contact with the edge of the book, the heaviness of it landing on the ground with a thump after hitting the art student’s shoulder. “Hey! You’re gonna help me, so you better stop doubting the love of my life.”

Reaching out to pick up the book, Dongmin smiles subtly. In all honesty it was romantic in a 21st century type of way.  One brush of shoulders and one Instagram follow is what romance is these days, a like on a picture of a loved one meaning more than an actual verbal compliment.. A slight admiration of it existing somewhere in Lee Dongmin - it was very much what made the millennial generation different from the ones that lived before, - even though the old man in him would always prefer the classic eye-to-eye kind of novel.

Nodding at Myungjun’s request disguised in the tone of the command, Dongmin placed to book on his lap, looking over the title and almost cracking up. “Wasn’t Ophelia forced to return Hamlet’s affection?”

Myungjun’a mouth opened to respond, but Dongming was faster

 “And didn’t he die at the end?”

Another hard-covered book flew his way.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm updating quickly to set the story more. ^^; Since the next chapter will be way longer, the new update will most likely take a few days, since I have exams. Please enjoy MJ's extraness in the mean time.!~

The next day’s shift at ‘Bean’s’ started much too late for Dongmin’s liking. He had always been a morning bird, functioning much better during the days than in the evenings. From what the barista could tell, he gathered much more tips for himself whenever he started early, too, as all of his fresh headed was on recipes and proper manners with clients (he might have also been aware about the powers of his eye-smile, but that’s a different story). At least an evening shift allowed him to spend more time on his paintings and hunt for inspiration to finish some pieces around the campus.

By 9 pm Dongmin had already served over 90 people and made even more different types of coffees. His lids were giving up on him, as he stood by the coffee machine wiping it in a robotic like manner. His hip was pressed to the counter, back turned towards the entrance – not the smartest move but the best he could do keeping in mind that he could barely support his own weight as it was. One of the downsides of being a morning bird, was, in fact, the senior illness (as Myungjun had named it). The young boy could not stay up straight after it passed 8.30 pm no matter how hard he tried.

The bell rung, waking him up from the eyes-wide-open nap, indicating new people coming into the cafe. Swiftly, Dongmin turned to greet the customer only finding his roommate in front of him with a goofy smile. A smile that Dongmin knew very well, which only meant that Myungjun was up to something. It was then that the barista realized that there were two figures attached to his friend’s sides. On his right, Dongmin found none other than the blonde Mister Sunshine, smiling politely as he bowed his head a little to greet the worker. He was wearing a forest green checkered hoodie and bright jeans with way too many holes in them for the gloomy, slightly stingy weather. The art student mirrored his movement before his eyes focused of the person in dark clothes on Myungjun’s left. Dark hoodie, the hood covering tousled blueish bangs, dark baggy sweats and dark rimmed glasses. And a delicate, knowing smile sent Dongmin’s way. The Flower. The only difference in the boy in the dark clothes was that he lost the hat and decided on having a sports bag hang off his shoulder.

Blinking a few times, Dongmin fell out of his element, completely thrown off by the stranger’s expression. The best he could do was repeat the gesture he offered Mister Sunshine moments before and hope he doesn’t take it as rude behaviour. Dongmin wasn’t supposed to grin at all of the customers, right? In the corner of his eye Dongmin saw how the boy bowed back lightly, setting his eyes somewhere along Dongmin’s name tag rather than his face.

“Dongmin, my sweet roommate!” Myungjun exclaimed happily, both hands on the bar as he looked over it for a few seconds before looking back up at his friend. “How are customers treating you today?”

He was tired. Tired to the core. And he would have told Myungjun just that hadn’t there been other potential customers around. The others might have gone into ‘Bean’s’ with Dongmin’s roommate, but the worker’s conscience didn’t allow him to lose his presentable appearance. Therefore, the boy in the hat smiled at his friend, shaking his head slightly. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

“Aaah,” Myungjun’s voice drifted off as he set his gaze back on the younger. “Then I’m sure you can handle three more americanos.”

Dongmin’s mouth opened up, the boy ready to complain about not letting his friend freeload anymore just because he worked at the campus café. But before he could do that, a voice coming from Myungjun’s left spoke up, shooting a wild array of ‘no’s’ into the air. All three pairs of eyes set on the darkly-dressed, slightly scruffy boy. “Two please. I’m not drinking.”

Mister Sunshine looked at the flower with a surprised hundred blinks per second to which the boy only shrugged. “I don’t feel like it.” Shrugging, the boy gave an awkward toothless smile to his friend before moving to sit at one of the tables after spearing the neatly dressed yet beat barista behind the counter one last glance. The latter silently appreciated it, thoughts about asking for money vanishing the moment there was one less coffee to make. Besides, no matter how he would try to approach it, Dongmin was sure that Myungjun would have found a way to get it free. Though, truthfully, the younger just didn’t want to make his roommate look bad in front of quote on quote the _‘love of his life probably’_.

“Go sit down, I’ll bring it to you.”

Dongmin didn’t even bother to ring in the two cups into the register, helplessly brewing the two pots and setting them on the table where two out of three people were endorsed in a conversation and the third one seemed to be staring off into space. He almost felt sorry for the boy – being stuck as a third wheel was very much unfortunate. Even like that, though, when no eyes were on him, The Flower was as vibrant ever.

The three left just before Dongmin started closing up and going through ‘Bean’s’ to clean up. Thankfully, Myungjun managed to remember the endless complaints about how bothering it was to clean up the ceramic cups when every customer left them sit on the table – just before leaving he put down the two used mugs from their table on top of the bar right in front of Dongmin’s nose, sneaking in a wink and following the two he came into the café with outside. Though, as the barista brushed trough ‘Bean’s’, he cussed MJ for not being able to take care of litter for their table, the napkin that laid directly in the centre of it seemed dirty from far away making Dongmin’s eye twitch. Once he neared it, though, he noticed that instead of it being dirty there were blue ink emoticon-like drawings of a cat and a dog on it as well as the words ‘goodnight, Dongmin’ written on it. Lifting it up revealed neatly folded 15,000 won. Shaking tough his memories, Dongmin could only remember two voices chirping behind the table, third voice, the same one that had refused a coffee, absent. It didn’t make sense for his roommate or the man he had a schoolboy crush on leave this, as every time Dongmin looked up from his place behind the counter, they were oblivious to their surroundings - chatting away, nodding at each other and laughing. The only possible person to do this was The Flower. Something inside Dongmin fluttered at the idea and made the barista bite back a smile.

In the end, Dongmin couldn’t keep the money to himself. His conscience was always a strong force – he rung those two coffees up and put the money in the counter. It ended up being too much, but if it’s a surplus than so be it.

He kept the napkin, though. No matter how badly the little faces of the animals were drawn.

 

* * *

 

For a man as delicate as Dongmin was, walking trough the frat house was completely out of his element. There wasn’t a single second in Dongmin’s life that he considered even nearing the Classically designed building. Much less so, following Myungjun in with an English version of Hamlet in his hands after the older had woken him up with snaps of his fingers, announcing that secret sources told him where to find Mister Sunshine and if they don’t act immediately, that bright smile will be snatched before Dongmin could open his mouth for the exaggerated introduction his older friend decided upon.

It was hard to ignore the looks the two very obviously out of place boys got from the frat members. Thankfully, no one questioned them, their eyes curious rather than uninviting and as Dongmin passed his third smile directed at him one and a half minutes in the house, the young man shook away any discomfort he felt.

“Well, everyone seems awfully nice here,” the taller man hummed, long legs gracefully moving up the wide stairs in the main hall on the building. One other thing Dongmin noticed that the house was awfully clean for a frat. Much cleaner than the dorm they lived at, which didn’t seem to add up to the stereotype of a frat house Dongmin carried. It was airy and open, very satisfying to observe after dealing with dirty walls and crumbled bricks.

“What do you mean?” MJ didn’t bother to look up, looking around just as intrigued by the purely white surroundings.

“People are smiling. Not necessarily what I imagined a fraternity to look like.” Dongmin hummed as they turned a corner to walk up another set of stairs, the younger following his friend’s lead.

Dongmin’s observation had Myungjun scrunching up his nose in a funny manner and giggling loudly, the words humorous for a reason the boy who said it couldn’t comprehend. Frowning at his friend’s reaction, Dongmin peeled his eyes away from a flower pot they passed to look at MJ only to find his older friend watching him with the same expression. “I’m sorry that I’m the one to announce this to you, Min, but you’re sort of a babe,” giggling, Myungjun wiggled the point of his nose with the knuckle of his index finger as if it was itching. A gesture to fight the sudden awkward feeling rushing through the older. “Of course they’re smiling.”

Blinking, the younger felt heat rush up his neck and fill his ears. “Myungjun,” he whined, suddenly dragging after his friend as opposed to keeping him company by his side. “What are you even saying right now. They are smiling at you just as much as they’re smiling at me.” Dongmin argued with the older, the very obvious fact Myungjun pointed out refusing to set in his brain as one. As far as the Art student was concerned, he was just like anyone else on campus.

Myungjun’s big personality had him bringing his finger up to move it in a ‘no’ before his palm faced the other’s face  – nothing more but a MJ way of shutting Dongmin up. “Oh please,” at least MJ wasn’t denying the smiles.

It was useless to go into further discussion to his elder about that, so the Arts student decided to empty his mind of whatever Myungjun was saying and focus on other questions he had. Walking back up to Myungjun’s side, he peeked at him, fingers grasping tighter onto the book he held. “How did you find out he lived here anyway?”

“I messaged The Noodle,” the orange haired sassed loudly as if it was the most obvious answer on planet earth before quickly turning a corner, eyes scanning the numbers. “We’re looking for 307, by the way.”

Though, Dongmin’s eyes didn’t go to the numbers on the doors. Instead, he kept looking at MJ, waiting for him to go back to the ‘Noodle boy’ part, but as he never elaborated, Dongmin opened his mouth again. “You mean Sanha? How did you-“

“It’s easy, Min, you just pull out your keyboard ant type. Besides yesterday Mister Sunshine mentioned the frat. I just didn’t know which room.”

Dongmin rolled his eyes, feeling the silent shots Myungjun had fired at him. That was one of the hundred differences the pair had – one of them was loud, eccentric. He went for what he wanted without overthinking it. It wasn’t like Dongmin was too different, but mustering up courage to directly message his crush was something impossible for him.

They reached the room after wandering around a little and Myungjun extended his hand to knock before releasing a prolonged breath and making weird sounds that were supposed to stretch his mouth and warm up his voice. Taking a few steps back the older took up position he practiced, sending a glare in Dongmin’s general direction before whisper-yelling for him to get ready with the opening.

Dongmin shook his head, the soft skin of his fingers brushing against the paper as he flipped through the pages. He heard the door open when he was right in the middle of fumbling with the book. Knowing that Mister Sunshine was already observing them and Myungjun was most likely staring daggers, Dongmin panicked a little, pulling at the baby blue collar of his button-up before his lips opened up in a sad excuse of improvisation. “Oh thy s-“ Dongmin was already screwed, he might have as well own it.

Looking up right in the middle of his sentence, though, had the raven-haired boy fighting a cough, as his eyes focused on a different face than expected. It was-

“Bin?” MJ’s voice could be heard from behind the Art student. So that’s The Flower’s name.

At the same time, though, Bin’s mouth opened up.

“Dongmin?”

“Me?”

Eyes on the Art student with pink cheeks and baby blue collar, The Flower didn’t register Dongmin’s roommate until their voices mashed together and his eyes left him to find the roommate coming up closer from behind Dongmin. The older didn’t keep his attention for long, though, and for some reason Dongmin felt exponentially more embarrassed about the words he spurted out in an attempt to improvise Shakespeare when Bin looked back at him.

 “Minhyuk!” The Silver Foxes head had popped out behind Bin, a goofy smile on his face as he had his hand raised in the air, obviously wanting to join the naming game the other three were playing.

Myungjun took the liberty of standing on his tippy toes to look into the dorm room over the admittedly broad shoulders of the pair in the doorway. “I thought this was Jinwoo’s room?” clicking his tongue, his eyes diverted on Bin. But he stayed mute, looking at MJ’s younger friend instead.

Noticing the lack of response from his friend, Minhyuk slapped his exposed bicep with the back of his hand, rolling his eyes and making room for himself in the doorway by pushing Bin to the side with by a hip-bump. “It is. We’re all roommates.”

“Oh,” there wasn’t much Myungjun could say at the deadpan tone of The Silver Fox.

Meanwhile Dongmin was busy looking away from the bright boy he had named The Flower, who seemed to have named him and had been staring at him ever since they arrived. And maybe... _Maybe_ he partially couldn’t look up at the boy that was named Bin because of the glistening of his skin. The frat boy seemed to be straight out of the shower, blue hued hair wet at toussled everywhere, covering his forehead messily. Small water droplets were formed on his neck, covering its entirety, making it shine invitingly in the light. It was the first time Dongmin saw the flower wear something else than black, as a while, sleeveless shirt stuck to damp patches of his torso and revealed toned biceps. Truthfully, Dongmin didn’t want to stop functioning completely. That’s why he chose to examine The Silver Fox instead. The latter looked awoken from his sleep, Dongmin noted as he peeked at the boy standing next to Bin - his hair was messy and knotted right on top of his head, his eyes carried sleep in the corners and his cheek was slightly red and pattered – probably from being stuck to a pillow for a while.

“If you need Jinwoo,” The Flower spoke up finally, relieving Dongmim from his gaze as he turned to look at Myungjun with a friendly smile. His tone was warm and sweet, knowing even. It was obvious that he knew MJ’s intentions. In fact, it would have been more crazy had he been oblivious – he was forced to sit through what resembled a date between his roommate and Myungjun. Dongmin couldn’t help the laugh that escaped as he saw Myungjun’s reddening cheeks when he finally dared to look up. “We’re having a party in a couple of hours. You two should come and find him there.”  Bins gaze kept moving between the two people in front of him.

“Like, a frat party?” Dongmin asked before he could think, eyes widening slightly at the idea.

Bin nodded, keeping Dongmin’s gaze.

Dongmin thought it was a bad idea. An absolutely terrible idea. He had seen way too many movies not to know what mess frat parties were. Booze, sweat and a bunch of horny students, tasteless dance moves and a lot of vomit. He also knew that he was definitely, without a doubt going.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Highkey inspired by that one time Eunwoo wore that pink beret.  
> I didn't edit much so please forgive me if you spot mistakes~

It reeked of cheap beer and worn out sneakers. What was supposed to be an intricate frat building; what actually looked like a tasteful museum hours before seemed to turn into some kind of a neolutionesque club with lights and music threatening to tear the place down. It was too loud for Dongmin’s liking, the young man noted as he followed his older friend through crowds of people with a frown on his face, eyebrows dancing together to every too-loud of a beat. As if that would somehow make it easier to endure the loud bass of a yet another generic EDM track.

It just had to be a dress up party, too. It wasn’t even Halloween anymore, yet costumes were required because a Santa would be taking early wishes later in the evening and for some reason that required being someone else but yourself. Apparently, there would be a chance to sit down on Santa’s lap and explain why you were good or bad. Dongmin figured that the infamous Santa would probably end up being the same one trying to shuffle right in the middle of the dance floor with two drinks in his hands. Either way, MJ dressed up as a chef after raiding a couple of dorm rooms and finding a hat along with the whole uniform in some freshman’s drawer. Dongmin, on the other hand, didn’t know what to dress up as. At first he thought he could use it as an excuse to avoid the party, especially since it was getting late into the evening and his elder syndrome was slowly kicking in. But then MJ took it upon himself to place a pink beret Dongmin once bought in a student fair on top of his head naming him an artist. Generic, stereotypical and condescending, Dongmin thought, but he ended up shuffling after MJ towards the house anyway.

At a certain point they had to pass the dance floor in search of the blonde of Myungjun’s dreams. The pushing got a bit too much for Dongmin, making him place his hands on his friend’s shoulders. He only wanted to pass the people without getting seperated from Myungjun but apparently was mistaken for a choo choo train, as a particurlarly drunken boy yelled out ‘choo-choo’ and put his hands on Dongmin’s waist. Immediately, Dongmin felt uncomfortable and squirmed under the unfamiliarity of the grip, but he didn’t know how to shrug the guy away. Especially after a whole long line formed behind him of people excited about the stupid event. It got worse when Myungjun realized what was happening and took up the role of a conductor with a bright smile on his face, tooting loudly and forgetting about his mission for a few moments, leading the train around the entirety of the dance floor.

Dongmin felt the need to cuss his friend under his breath at the moment but he couldn’t do it. Truthfully, this is who MJ was – he was playful, he liked fun and the younger could never blame him for that. Not that Dongmin was a man one could only paint in greys. It’s just that Dongmin wasn’t as shining, he wasn’t a bomb ready to explode as rays of sun hit him. He enjoyed fun, but not in the same way as MJ. The elder was an eccentric social butterfly, all yellows and oranges, when Dongmin’s definition of fun centred around walking empty streets and looking for inspiration for his next painting, not masses of people, dancing and blue LED lights.

Uncomfortably, the boy with the pink beret started wiggling in his place as he took small steps behind MJ. He managed separate himself from the train, taking a breath of air he felt deprived of before moving towards the couches right next to the dancefloor he had been shuffling on. With how much his roommate was into leading a live chain of people around the dance floor made it seem like their actual objective of the night was postponed for a while. As much as the younger didn’t like that idea, he knew he had no choice but to wait it out.

Picking a particularly inviting, soft looking (and feeling, as he discovered after sitting down) couch, he nested himself there. Sinking into the cushions, the boy kept his eyes on the messy orange hair peeking from under a chef’s hat. One pressed and breathy laugh escaped his slightly parted lips at the sight of an excited MJ.  

Numbers of people passed his nose and chatter filled the air, the speakers bleared loud, but it all started to fade as Dongmin came to terms with how comfortable his spot was. It was warm, even a little humid because of the lack of fresh air in the space. The heat cocooned the tired boy, letting the elder disease seep deep into Dongmin’s bones and softly lulling the young man to close his eyes, convincing him that it was just for two seconds. Maybe five. Or six beats.

The next time Dongmin opened his eyes the EDM that bothered him was nowhere to be heard and the loud yelling of the live human train was missing. Blinking slowly, Dongmin sat up, looking around the blue-lit room with dazed, sleepy eyes. His brain worked slowly, registering the much slower, sultry beat blasting trough the speakers and much less people around. Usually the music made 180 turns late at night, when most people who are sill around are the ones looking for hook-ups or the ones passed out on any flat surface around. Or at least that’s the natural progression that lived in the artist’s head.

Placing his palms flush against softness of the cushions that had him fall asleep in a matter of seconds, Dongmin pushed himself up to sit up straight from his previous half lying position. His eyes moved along the room in search of his roommate in the room that was as blue as Dongmin remembered from before closing his eyes.

“You’re awake,” the spot next to him that had previously been empty dipped as someone occupied it with their presence. Dongmin recalled that voice somewhere in the back of his head during the short moment his eyes took to focus on the person. It was someone that he’d spoken with briefly if you could call whatever exchange they had a conversation. Yet, the brief encounters they shared were enough for his face to flash in Dongmin’s mind before his actual eyes landed on the man he’d labelled a flower ever since he first laid eyes on the other.

“Oh?” Dongmin’s mouth moulded into a round shape, weighing the situation and not exactly understanding the familiarity Bin oozed as he sat next to him. The young man’s body was turned towards Dongmin as if they had been immersed in a conversation and his all attention was on him. A stable, knowing smile pulled at Bin’s thin lips that shaded purple as the natural pink messed with the blue lights. Dongmin watched how the other leisurely threw his arm over the backrest and rested his head against the palm of it, watchful eyes smiling at him, while his other hand held a cup that Dongmin could only presume held some kind of an alcoholic substance – or all of them mixed together, judging by the colour.

What caught Dongmin’s eye was the headbands his apparent company wore. Plural. A pair of cat ears and a pair of dog ears. It reminded the barista of the napkin he found on the table MJ, Mister Sunshine and The Flower sat behind, offering further clues that the ten thousand won was left by the same boy that currently was smiling at him in a party at a frat house – a place Dongmin never imagined finding himself in.

“You’ve been out for a while,” The Flower commented, peeling his eyes away from the boy to gaze somewhere behind Dongmin as his lips pursed to sip from his cup.

Dongmin blinked, flabbergasted. Had Bin been observing him the whole time? “Creepy, but believable.” Dongmin admitted, as Bin had confirmed what Dongmin was thinking – it had been much later in the evening than the young man anticipated when he decided to rest his stinging eyes for a moment or two.

“I.. You, um..” Words that pulled on Bin’s tongue were messy and slightly slurred. One could only guess that it was the effect of alcohol. It went along well with his flushed cheeks and slightly drowsy eyes. “You have.. Stuff… On your face.”

The first thing that went through Dongmin’s mind was markers, profanities and organs that could have been easily scribbled on his face as nothing would have woken him up – he was out enough not to hear the deep bass, which meant that he was completely oblivious to any noise or touch. Terrified, his hand flew to his forehead expecting to feel exposed skin there (more like a bright, empty canvas, just waiting for someone’s creative touch) but he only hit his slightly curled bangs.

“No, Dongmin... I mean...” Bin giggled, obviously amused at Dongmin’s reaction. “Saliva...”

Dongmin’s eyes caught Bin’s stare quickly. For some reason the dried crust that he felt under his fingers, as his hand slipped down his face in an attempt to wipe traces of sleep off, embarrassed him even more than the thought of a bad genitalia drawing on his forehead. He wasn’t sure why, but deep in his gut he had the feeling that it had to do with the brightness of The Flower watching him. You see, the drawings were potentially out of his hands while the drool that must have pooled his mouth and slipped past his lips was no less but his own doing – unintentional, yes, but still fully him.

When Dongmin’s arms rested on the couch again, he focused on Bin giggling. He was bright. So undeniably vivid and magnetic.

”Myungjun warned me of this,” Bin outstretched his arm to put the cup on the table next to them and resumed his previous position. He looked very comfortable and at ease, even with someone who Bin didn’t know anything about. He bloomed even in social situations. He never stopped.

Hearing the familiar name of his best friend, Dongmin quirked a brow. “You spoke to MJ?”

For a moment Bin seemed to be pondering over the question. Dongmin couldn’t tell if it was because his mind was slowed down by the alcohol or it was an unfamiliar nickname to Bin and he couldn’t exactly put two and two together. “Mhm,” Bin nodded once, an awkward finger coming up to scratch his brow. “He tried to wake you up but you didn’t move. He said it come’s with you being an eighty-four year old stuck in a twenty year old’s body.”

Sounds like MJ.

“Where is M-hyung?”

The question made a pout form on the thin petals of The Flower. “Am I bad company?”

Dongmin’s jaw fell, as he gawked, mouth opening and closing a couple of times. It wasn’t a question the artist was supposed to answer. Yet, he found himself looking for an answer. For what it’s worth, he wanted to say no, but could he? They haven’t spoken normally or held a lengthy conversation – they haven’t even made introductions, thus, the first answer wouldn’t make sense. And ‘yes’ would just be rude. Moreover, Dongmin wouldn’t mean that.

His brain heated up as he overthought. Thankfully, an amused Bin held enough sense to continue to what Dongmin was interested in. “He couldn’t wake you up so he asked me to look after you as he goes um..” Bin frowned, eyes focusing on the ceiling as if he trying to recall the exact phrase Myungjun used. Dongmin wasn’t surprised it took effort – with how over-the-top his roommate could be along with his major, his expressive sentences were sometimes hard to grasp. In fact, it took Dongmin over a year to fully understand his roommate’s antics. “Into the lone, hearty battle on his own, as he lost his one and only trooper.”

A smile took up half of Dongmin’s face, as he laughed envisioning Myunjun’s arms flying to every side hopelessly as the realization that his confession will have to be carried out alone. As it should be.

“So I guess he found Jinwoo..”

“More like Jinwoo found him,” Bin murmured, rolling his eyes a little before reaching for his drink again. He froze under Dongmin’s eyes, that were round and demanding. Before he could grip his cup, Bin was back resting against his hand. “He was looking for me while I was talking to MJ and it ended up with Jinjin approaching us before he could approach him.”

Dongmin nodded, eyes much less drowsy than before as he slowly collected his thoughts. “So you knew he’s confessing?” He questioned what was already obvious for the sake of the conversation.

“I had a hunch since I did have to sit with them through their date thing.” Bin scoffed, his nose scrunching at the memory. Dongmin could only nod compassionately, recalling how disinterested and detached Bin seemed. “Besides, it would explain that ‘Hamlet’ in his hands.”

As their small talk went on, Dongmin found himself sinking into the inviting, warm presence of The Flower. His motions started manipulating Bin’s and before he knew it, Dongmin’s torso was turned towards his acquaintance, offering him his full attention which seemed to be enough for Bin to show his teeth to Dongmin as the slightly tipsy boy smiled. “I thought it was a sad choice of a book to confess.”

“Why?” Bin dropped his smile, slight confusion setting onto his features.

“Doesn’t it end tragically?”

“I believe there’s romance in every tragedy, though,” the boy across from Dongmin hummed. He almost seemed in a daydream, yet his eyes seemed to be much more clear than moments before. “Especially with Shakespeare. If you take the right parts and really read it, that is. I had a whole course on it, I would know,” Bin grinned brightly, his eyes going back into the haze they were before. It was unbelievably endearing.

“Oh, you’re some kind of a Shakespeare expert then?” Dongmin found himself teasing the other.

“I mean… Literature major… So close enough.”

Dongmin was caught off-guard once again, blinking blankly at his company. Out of all the things Dongmin expected the frat boy to study, it was definitely not literature. He seemed to fit almost anything else but that – maybe nutrition or business, chemistry even, as Dongmin was almost sure the periodic table held an element that shone as brightly as the boy by his side. It would be a perfect fit.

“What about you?”

“Me?”

“What do you study?”

“Aaah…” Dongmin’s lips parted in a prolonged recognition of his question. “I study Arts… I always enjoyed painting, doodling and drawing. I’m minoring in architecture, though.”

Somewhere in the middle of the sentence a chain of bright giggling came from the direction of Dongmin’s companion. The latter observed The Flower in the midst of blooming, his smile contagious enough to reflect on Dongmin’s face as if it was a mirror, even though he couldn’t understand what exactly was so funny to Bin. It began to clear up one Bin’s hand stretched out again. Though, instead of reaching for the drink , the frat boy reached towards the top of Dongmin’s head, pulling at the tip of his pink beret playfully. It also made Dongmin tense up and very hyper aware of Bin tugging on his accessory, heat travelling up from his white button-up covered chest up his neck to mark his cheeks with a bright red ‘x’.

“Now I get your outfit!” Dongmin let out a breath as Bin’s hand free-fell onto his lap and smacked against his tight, finding place there. “You’re yourself! Creative.”

Dongmin couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the comment, a smile never vanishing from his face. The costume wasn’t his own doing and in that moment he felt a rush of thankfulness towards Myungjun for the creation in which he felt at home. He was definitely himself, which Dongmin wouldn’t have realized had Bin not pointed it out. Decked in his own clothing that he wore daily, the only concern and discomfort he held was brushing trough crowds of people he didn’t know. Though, apparently, the boy under the pink on top of his head wasn’t even that bothered by the strangers, as he fell asleep momentarily right in the middle of a sea of them.

Either way, Dongmin teased Bin right back. “And what are you cat-ears, dog-ears headband?”

Bin shrunk two sizes, the sudden embarrassment that dawned on him evident in his heated cheeks growing deeper in shade. “It’s sort of stupid,” he started fumbling with his fingers, mischievous eyes losing some of the glint as he stared down onto the mess his digits were making. Dongmin felt an overwhelming need to whine at how cute the sight was, a sound right at the top of his throat like a bad meal ready to come out. He swallowed it down. “You know my friend Rock-um… Minhyuk? Silver hair, a lot of muscle stuffed in a petite body. We met in seventh grade when he transferred from Gwangju and he sat next to me in lunch. We stared each other down and I really thought I was being neutral when suddenly he smacked his chopsticks on the table,” Dongmin didn’t understand why exactly he went so in depth with the explanation, but could guess that it might have something to do with the embarrassment crossed with alcohol – the pair making him want to redeem himself from something that didn’t even need redemption in the first place. “Metal on metal doesn’t sound that great, Dongmin,” Bin frowned, remembering the exact sound erupting in the cafeteria where they ate. He had to take a frustrated sip of his drink that dimmed his eyes another shade of drunk. “We were young and hitting puberty, so we were feeling a lot of things... He said ‘HEY, what’s your problem’. And I said… ‘I don’t know… What is my problem?’ Because I genuinely didn’t know, Dongmin. I just had no clue what he was on about but apparently, he took it as sarcasm and an open invitation to take a swing at me. We were waiting for our parents in the homeroom teacher’s office frowning upon each other and arguing about who is more annoying when he said, ‘I don’t know what I did to make you hate me’. That’s when I found out I had RBF at all times except when I was smiling,” Bin looked back at Dongmin, showing a toothy grin. “And I became known as a puppy-cat. A chic cat while serious and an inviting, warm puppy when I smile.” The boy took it upon himself to vary between the two expressions, providing Dongmin with empiric proof of what he was saying. And as much as the latter wanted to disagree or find some sort of flaw in the nickname, he had to admit it was spot on, as the art student allowed himself to stare at The Flower for a moment longer than became usual during the short time of them being acquainted.

Bin ended the change of faces with the smile. Inviting, Dongmin repeated to himself in his mind. “I see… It fits.”

“Right?” Happy about the approval of his company, Bin shuffled in his spot before clapping his hands and squirming in his seat as he seemed to be in the process of taking something out of his pocket. As Dongmin watched him do so, it hit the beret boy – how different Bin was from any projection of a frat boy he’d ever imagined. Yes, he was partying. Yes, he was drunk enough to most likely get a bad hangover. But he wasn’t vulgar, he wasn’t a jock-type either. Bin was completely bright and shining, a person you want to stick to and be around day by day. Someone who would offer a hand to a troubled on the street and constantly outshine anyone decked even in the darkest of attire, which seemed to be a reoccuring trend with Bin, as at the time of the party he wore all black once more – black ripped jeans covering his trained legs, a simple black t-shit on his frame hid behind a black leather jacket that glistened almost sinfully in the neon blue lights. His hair was parted slightly to the side, giving him an overall cleaner look and looking even more blue in the lighting. Bin was missing his glasses – the thick dark rims he hid behind. Maybe because today he didn’t want to hide, Dongmin thought, maybe it’s because he wanted to smile brighter, be louder without saying a word. It felt like that, too, as the boy who sat quietly in a café not interested enough to even be acknowledged by his friends had become a social butterfly for a night. Or at least that’s what Dongmin presumed until he couldn’t anymore, as his eyes were forced to refocus on an object that Bin himself held up in front of Dogmin’s nose. It took a moment for Dongmin to recognise the keychain with a tacky Eiffel tower chiche hanging from it.

“Did you steal these from MJ?” Snatching the keys to their dorm room, Dongmin observes the set in the palm of his hand before focusing on his company once more. They left their room in a rush, taking one set of keys, leaving Dongmin’s pair locked up in the room.

For some reason (alcohol), Bin found the question hilarious, lightly slapping his thigh as he openly laughed in Dongmin's face and shook his head. As if the question Dongmin asked was serious. “Noooo, he gave these to me when he asked me to look after you. He said that if he doesn’t come back for these, we should pop some champagne. He hasn’t come back for like three hours, so I guess we should go ahead and go buy a bottle?”

He almost sounded serious. The invitation almost sounded serious, if not for the hundredth sparkly grin of the night that implied otherwise. That Bin was playing in the worst manner possible – teasing one, and the roots of The Flower that have wrapped around Dongmin way before he realized it made him aware of their existence by tightening their grip on him. He felt them sinking into his stomach and tickling him excitingly, making goose bumps spread on the perimeter of Dongmin’s skin, which never left even as they parted ways not too far from Dongmin’s dorm room.

It was as awkward as one would expect, after Dongmin had denied his need for company but Bin kept persisting it was his duty as his watchful caretaker for the night. Neither one of them knew what to say to the other, but the frat boy didn’t seem as bothered by the screaming silence. It almost felt like a first date awkwardness, except that the reason Dongmin and Bin ended up together that time wasn’t mutual attraction. At least not theirs.

“I’ll be off, then.” Bin shrugged, eyes warmly scrunched despite the lack of a grin on his lips. He seemed to have sobered up as they passed the dim streets and headed towards the dorms. As alcohol stopped fogging his mind, the amount of words leaving his lips ceased, too. At least his eyes sparkled heavenly in the glow of the streetlamps.

What could Dongmin even answer to that statement? Nothing. So he just nodded his head, ready to walk towards his room until he heard his name for the last time that evening. Turning back he found the same toothy grin that bothered him for the recent hour or so and a hand sticking out towards him.

“I’m Moon Bin.”

Moon. The brightest accessory of the night sky. The silver that steals attention from stars. The same body that inspired artists to create the most beautiful poems and paintings and blew romance in couples as it pushed the Sun out of the view. That moon. How fitting… And how utterly uncalled for.


End file.
